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To Be Human;
Kit. 19. Male. Ohioan. I'm a college student majoring in humanities. I want to be a beautiful mystery.

Formal diagnosis: Adjustment Disorder, Mood Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Generalized Anxiety Disorder

Self diagnosis: Histrionic Personality Disorder
coneyislandking
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HPD and me (cathartic cataloging of thoughts)

Permanent Linkby coneyislandking on Mon Mar 10, 2014 2:43 pm

I don't know if I actually have HPD. I fantasize about having it, because I guess I want to be flawed and delicate and require extra care from significant others. But I'm only 19 and understandably, histrionism isn't necessarily an inappropriate set of coping skills at my age. The personality apparently isn't done until mid-twenties.

I want to be able to call myself HPD, however. I know being personality disordered is not fun and that it shouldn't be idolized or romanticized, but I like to romanticize everything that I can. I just feel like HPD explains a lot of the things that were previously unexplained in my life.

I know everyone has issues. Everyone has some traits of a disordered personality, but a lot of those people also have the psychic sinews that I feel I do not. I cannot stay committed and I'm not good with responsibility unless it's rewarding. I have trouble appreciating long-term benefits of anything. That's why I have always done so poorly at school, despite being above-average intelligence. I can't handle the conflict of being expected to do hard work, so I play dead.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like a problem completely inexplicable, like I'm just bad in all the worst ways.. like I'm just hiding how sick I really am on the inside. I feel like if people saw me for what I am on the inside, they would think I'm a robot or an alien or something. I think I saw a movie once where a victim of sexual abuse in childhood grew up to be attached to the fantasy of being a robot. Or maybe I just read about that movie. I don't really feel like a robot on the inside. I feel like nothing.

If people saw me for what I am on the inside, they'd see me when I was ten. I'm emaciated and afraid, terrified of conflict or disapproval, though I raise hell myself. Maybe I would actually be 12. I think I'm fat and I feel like I'm walking on stilts or walking with a limp that makes me look defective. Whenever anyone is laughing, they're laughing at me. Why can't I just be accepted? Everyone wants to be accepted. You just happen to be the exception, who doesn't get to. I want to be liked and enjoy my youth, but you're not going to because you messed up.

Maybe some people are meant to be alone forever, or cursed. My mom has been alone forever. Maybe that's why things don't work out for me. I don't know how people in relationships treat each other. I can only go by how my friends' parents acted around each other, and they were just being polite.

Maybe HPD is so important to me because I have always gotten what I wanted by being crippled by illness. I got out of gym in high-school because of my unstable joints. I also got out of having to change around other boys, which I never enjoyed doing. I could enjoy it now, because now I know I'm attractive and I know I look good in my underwear.

I once got made fun of in elementary school because when changing out of my gym clothes, I didn't take my shoes off. I was in my underwear and my shoes, and someone asked me if I was planning on going to class naked. I was so embarrassed, but I didn't say a thing. If I did, I probably apologized.

I've always enjoyed staying in hospitals.

Only time will tell if I am really HPD. What I do know, is that I'm conflicted. But I'm also attractive, charming, smart, and intelligent. Despite lacking a diagnosis, I plan on staying involved with the HPD community here. I really like the people. I like intelligent conversation and I like talking about personality disorder. I also want to be a voice for HPD, which is a diagnosis lacking in exclusive support, from my experience.

There are some mornings when the sky looks like a road.
There are some dragons who were built to have and hold.
And some machines are dropped from great heights lovingly,
and some great bellies ache with many bumblebees,
and they sting so terribly.
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